Ma Wanliang's silver tongue was honed to perfection, and he bombarded Zhao Ya with one sweet phrase after another. But the disciples of the Zhao Family were all masters of deflection. They advanced and retreated with perfect timing, skillfully stringing him along. Ma Wanliang grew impatient, but he didn't dare make a reckless move.
Through this, Zhao Ya naturally learned a few things she wanted to know. 'It seems Ancestor Master Ma is trying to poach someone,' she thought. 'But Ma Wanliang clearly doesn't understand the situation; he thinks Wang Meng is some nobody he can summon and dismiss at will.'
Ma Wanliang waited for a while before the messenger disciple returned, alone.
"Where's Wang Meng?"
"Reporting to Elder Zhao, Junior Brother Wang is in closed-door cultivation..."
BAM!
Ma Wanliang slammed his fist on the table. "Closed-door cultivation? Cultivation my ass! Tell him to get his ass over here, now!"
